Secret Weapon
by Wasabi494
Summary: This story has been discontinued for being a stupid Mary-Sue fic that the author will never finish. Enjoy her anti-Sue rant in chapter six if you care to. - Anti-Sue rant has now been dismissed as long and unnecessarily angry, so maybe don't read it. -
1. K

Author's Note- This follows the timeline and events of the manga, not the anime or the movies. Also! First person means Kate is narrating, third person is someone else's point of view. There will be a divider thingy when the perspective changes.

Wasa: If I owned Death Note, would I be writing this? Anyway, this is my first fic, so be nice in your reviews. *big sad eyes* Anyway, have fun reading!

Random Dude: Just let them read...

Wasa: ...'Kay.

Chapter 1: K

November 1st, 2002

I woke up to the alarm, not knowing why I had left it on. After all, it was my day off. "Five more minutes...," I muttered, grabbing a pillow and placing it over my head.

"You're already awake, Kate," said a computerized voice emanating from speakers somewhere in my room. I hadn't checked the locations of anything except the cameras. "You might as well get up."

"Shut it, L," I said. "You're monitoring me; you're not my roommate."

"I often regret contacting you," he retorted. "Usually at around this time of morning." Sometimes I hated that smart-ass detective. He was the one who had first suspected me of being a serial poisoner, he was the one who had put spy cameras in my apartment, and he was the one who had refused to remove the cameras once he had determined that I was probably not the criminal. I just lived here.

Of course, 'probably' was the key word. This was L, after all. And I did fit the psychological profile he had constructed, except for one detail: I'm not the kind of person who would kill people. But again, this was L.

I mumbled incoherently from under the pillow, wishing he would leave me alone. He was quite chatty for a clearly antisocial super-detective.

I could imagine him frowning behind that calligraphy-letter facade of his as he asked: "Kate Mason, do you have a hangover?" He was very dad-ish sometimes, even though at twenty-four I was probably older than him. Again, his behavior when talking to me was quite different than what I had imagined. I had constructed a profile after he had announced on every TV screen in San Francisco that he was taking the serial poisoning case. He didn't fit, but in a way did fit.

"You know I don't drink," I said, removing the pillow from my face in defeat. "I was with my uncle's kids last night, anyway."

"That explains the bag of Halloween candy on the kitchen table."

He already knew that.

"You already knew that."

"That I did," he said. His voice was muffled by something he was eating. Probably cake.

"Right, I'm getting up," I said. "Look away while I get dressed or I'll track you down and shove that cake up your-"

"I'm looking away."

---L---

L obligingly turned around in his armchair while Kate was changing. _Quite perceptive,_ he thought. _She knew it was cake I was eating._

He swallowed the chunk of birthday cake he had been chewing. Twenty-three years old as of the previous day, he still behaved much like a child, despite his IQ.

"Right, I'm decent," came Kate's voice from the speakers of his computer. He turned back around to see her adjusting a studded belt on a pair of jeans that didn't really fit her. His eyes trailed upward along that blue raincoat she was always wearing (he hadn't the faintest idea why) to her face. Very pale skin, grayish-blue eyes, and short brown hair, messily pulled back into pigtails.

_I suppose she's fairly attractive, _he thought, followed a second later by, _Where did _that _come from?_

Out loud, he just commented: "Those are mens' jeans."

---Kate---

"Well, yeah," I said as I walked through my small apartment to the kitchen. "I don't enjoy being sexually harassed by my own pants."

I paused for a minute at the kitchen table, waiting for him to laugh. He didn't. He never did. I huffed a sigh and grabbed a fistful of candy from the bag on the table. "So," I said, "what were we talking about before my little cousins dragged me off yesterday?"

"You were profiling me," L prompted.

"Oh, right," I replied. "Well, for a start, you're male. A little younger than me, early twenties." I was quiet for a while, listening for a response. "And you're a Scorpio," I continued, "if you believe in that stuff." I was silent again, and he still didn't say anything. "Your real first name starts with an L," I said, seeing if that would get a reaction. "Who knows, maybe it _is _L."

He finally said something: "You just said I was male."

"Not E-L-L-E," I said. "Just L." Any normal person would have asked who on Earth would name their kid L. Neither of us could really be considered normal, though.

"Let's say my name really does start with L," said L. "How do you know that?"

"Simple," I said. "If I was a detective, I'd call myself K." I inspected a piece of hard candy to make sure it hadn't been tampered with, turning it in my hand.

"You shouldn't be so paranoid about poison," L commented.

"On the contrary," I retorted. "I'm not the poisoner, so I should be concerned about being his or her next victim." I unwrapped the piece of candy and held it up to the sunlight coming through the window.

---L---

There she went again, going out of her way to say she wasn't the poisoner. Despite what most people would think, that actually increased the chances of her being guilty.

"Eighteen percent," he said into the microphone next to his computer.

"You're making that up," came Kate's immediate response, "just like all the other percentages." He watched her finish examining the small piece of hard candy and pop it in her mouth. It clacked against her teeth as she continued speaking: "You lie a lot. It's a bad habit."

L used his best innocent voice as he said, "Lie? Me? Miss Kate, perhaps you are the liar here." Of course he was lying. Maybe it was a bad habit, but it was fun to rattle suspects by slowly raising the percentage.

"Oh, don't act so innocent," she said with a laugh. "And don't call me 'Miss Kate.' Just Kate. We're friends here, aren't we?" She teasingly wagged her pointer finger from side to side, grinning.

"...If you say so," he said rather awkwardly. She had never seen him, and she called him a friend? "So, any other details you've gleaned about me? Country of origin, perhaps."

"It's cheating to change the subject," said Kate, leaning back in her chair, "but I suppose we can continue with that. Country of origin, eh? Well, you seem to have a slight British accent..." Damn. He thought he'd gotten rid of that. "...but I'd guess you're of mixed ethnicity. Definitely Eurasian, though. I bet you're cute; it'd be fun to meet you in person." There was that teasing grin again.

L paused and blushed, an extremely rare sight. His eyes were opened even wider than usual. "I-" he started to say something before noticing something disturbing. "Kate?"

She convulsed in her chair, falling onto the floor and clutching her throat.

---Kate---

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe! I couldn't breathe _I couldn't breathe_!

I hit the floor hard as I fell. _That's going to bruise,_ I thought as my vision clouded and my whole body spasmed again. Ugh, that piece of hard candy had been poisoned after all! I quickly spit out the tiny sliver that remained of it.

"Kate?" I heard L's voice say as if from a distance.

_I'm going to die,_ I thought. _I have to get this out of my system._ I moved my hand from my throat to in front of my mouth, intending to force myself to throw up, as another spasm ran through me.

Then I died on the kitchen floor.

After that, things got a hell of a lot more interesting.

---End of Chapter 1---

Wasa: So, what did you readers think?

L: I seemed slightly out of character.

Wasa: Well, she makes you act differently.

L: Still...

Wasa: Ugh, whatever. Just review, you guys. Flames will be used to burn down your house.

Person: Don't emptily threaten people via internet.


	2. Face to Face

Author's Note-

Wasa: Hugs and chocolate to all my reviewers and people who are committing to reading this! And don't worry, xXKaminari-TsubasaXx. She may be dead, but... Well, you'll see.

Kate: This story isn't in the Supernatural category for nothing.

Wasa: That is correct! Ryuk has volunteered to do the disclaimer this time.

Ryuk: Wasabi494 doesn't own Death Note. She does, however, own apples, which she promised to give me.

Chapter 2: Face to Face

L went to Kate's funeral.

Only a few people came. Family, mostly. He could see her parents, some aunts and uncles, and three wide-eyed little kids who were undoubtedly the younger cousins she had taken trick-or-treating the day before her death.

He could immediately tell that he stood out. After all, he was wearing jeans and a white shirt to a funeral. Not to mention the fact that nobody knew who he was.

After Kate had been buried and most people had gone home, a young woman approached him. She had some kind of African accent and headphones around her neck. L recognized her as Sara, a friend of Kate's. "Excuse me," she asked, "but I don't recognize you. How did you know Kate?"

_'We're friends here, aren't we?'_

_'...If you say so.'_

"We were friends," he said quietly, looking at the ground.

"Weird," said Sara, "I've never met you before."

L thought fast. "Well, we were kind of like pen pals," he said, "but over the phone. I was talking to her when she died."

"So you heard her last words?"

"I did."

"What did she say?"

_'I bet you're cute...'_

L scratched one foot with the other. "I don't think she'd want me to share that," he said.

Sara paused in thought, then waved and started to walk away. "Suit yourself," she said as she left L as the last person to leave the funeral.

He walked to where Watari had parked the car and got in the back seat.

---Kate---

For a while after I died, everything was a blank.

One minute, I was in agony on my kitchen floor. The next, I was sitting on a headstone in a cemetery near where I lived.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened. Odd. I had never believed in ghosts.

It was weird to attend my own funeral. I could see a lot of my family there, along with the few friends I had. Of course, they couldn't see me. I think I was invisible.

I scanned the crowd from the top of my own headstone. There were my cousins. Poor kids... Sara looked like she was trying to be cheerful despite the occasion. I noticed she was wearing dark purple instead of black. _Good old Sara, _I thought with a smile.

As the funeral ended and people started to leave, heading for their cars, Sara stopped to talk to someone. Someone who was wearing jeans and a white shirt to a funeral. Male, early twenties. As I walked over to them (were my feet even touching the ground?) I could hear that his quiet voice contained a trace of a British accent. I supposed he was kind of cute.

_L!_ I exclaimed in my head. _He came to my funeral? Stupid of him... _Still, I couldn't help but feel kind of pleased by this. Stupid as it was, he had felt the need to attend my funeral. Maybe he really did think of me as a friend...

I watched him get into an expensive-looking black car and decided I was going to follow him. My death had probably given him new information for the case. Maybe he had solved it. In any case, I wanted to know who had killed me. As the car moved out onto the street, I ran after it.

I made it a few yards before I ran in front of a store and something happened. There was a throbbing pain in my head, like the worst headache ever magnified by a million times. I gasped and fell to the sidewalk on my hands and knees. It was weird to not be able to see myself... Damn, my head hurt.

About then, I did something. I wasn't sure what I did, but something changed, and I could see my hands on the pavement, and the pain was gone. I got up and looked around, ready to run if anyone had noticed me appearing out of nowhere. No one had seen; they were all going about their business.

I got to my feet, panting, and wondered what had caused that pain. All I had done was run in front of a jewelry store... I scanned the storefront, pretending to window shop.

I could only see one thing that was different from any other place on the street. A security camera, filming the area outside the store.

I remembered stories I had heard when I was little, about how ghosts couldn't be in front of cameras...

_That would explain it, _I thought, continuing to run after the black car, which had thankfully been delayed by a red light while I was incapacitated. _I guess I can't be invisible in front of a camera. I need to figure out how to control this!_

I caught up with the car in a few seconds and paused to catch my breath. Then I realized I didn't need to breathe. Convenient.

The light turned green, and I started to run again.

---L---

"We're being tailed," said Watari.

L snapped out of his thoughts and straightened up marginally to look in the rearview mirror. "Which car?" he asked, his eyes darting between the reflections of various vehicles.

"Not a car," said Watari. "A girl in a blue raincoat. You can see her out the right window; she isn't very good at tailing."

_A blue raincoat...,_ L thought, remembering the morning of Kate's death. She had been wearing that coat, even though the weather was perfect. He frowned and looked out of the window.

He could see her clearly; she wasn't even trying to conceal the fact that she was following them. She had, however, put up the hood of her raincoat to hide her face. Still, the clothes, the lock of brown hair protruding from under her hood... She looked exactly like Kate.

L shook his head and simply instructed Watari to try and lose her.

---Kate---

About an hour later, I came to a stop outside a room on one of the higher floors of an expensive hotel. I had followed the car to the hotel, then bribed a bellboy with money I had taken from his own wallet to tell me what room the old guy and the young guy were in. It was surprisingly easy.

I knocked on the door and took a deep breath. _This is going to be hard to explain,_ I thought nervously.

The door was answered by the old man, the one who had been driving the car. "Oh, it's you," he said, obviously evaluating how much of a threat I was.

"I need to talk to L," I said quietly, pulling down the hood of my raincoat to reveal my face. "My name is Kate Mason."

---L---

L looked up from a file he had been reviewing when he heard the knock at the door. As the door opened and someone walked inside, he started to get up from his chair, then lost his balance as he saw who had entered.

---Kate---

I couldn't help it. I had to laugh when L fell out of his chair, dropping a file folder on the ground. "I wasn't expecting that," I said between chuckles. "Then again, I can't imagine you were expecting me to show up."

"I can't say that I was," he said, picking up some loose papers that had fallen out of the file. "How are you alive? I myself verified that the corpse was yours, and you're no imposter."

"Actually," I said, "I'm not alive as such." I watched him sit back down in his chair, curled up in a ball. "That looks comfortable," I commented, sitting on a nearby couch in a similar position.

He tilted his head to the side in thought, and I was forced to sit there awkwardly for a while. Finally, he said: "Watari, bring us some tea. I can tell this will take some time to explain."

---L---

"Red tea for Kate," L added, remembering the one or two times when Kate would wake up at one or two in the morning and, unable to sleep, fix herself a cup of red tea.

"I don't think I have to eat or drink anything anymore," she said from across the coffee table, "but thanks. Tea would be nice." She smiled at him from where she crouched, imitating his posture.

"Please explain everything about your not being alive," said L, immediately getting to business.

"Well," she began, "I'm fairly certain I'm a ghost..."

He listened intently as she described the events of the day, explained her various theories, and commented on the flavor of the tea.

---Kate---

"...and here I am," I finished, holding my cup of tea upside down to catch the last drop or two in my mouth. This Watari was good at making tea.

"About that," said L, dropping five more sugar cubes in his third cup of tea. "Why did you come to me?" He raised an almost nonexistent eyebrow.

"Simple," I said. "Who was it?"

L pulled a photograph out of the folder he had been looking through and set it on the table. I picked up the photo and held it in front of my face. It was a mug shot of a man I had met a few times. "Seems about right," I said, giving the picture back to him.

"He was executed yesterday," L said. "Satisfied?"

I smiled and nodded. "Yep," I said. "And now we've met, face to panda-resembling face. I've been avenged, my last wish was granted, and yet I'm not seeing any heavenly beams of light or sinkholes to hell. You?"

He shook his head. "There must be some other factor besides vengeance and last wishes."

"Exactly," I said. "I think I owe you a favor."

"What kind of favor?"

"Are you accepting interns?"

---End of Chapter 2---

Wasa: Whew, a whole page longer than the last chapter. Everyone be sure to review!

Ryuk: Can I have my apples now?

Wasa: Yes. *throws apples at Ryuk*

Light: Enough of the lengthy backstory. When do I appear?

Wasa: Shut it, man-bitch.


	3. Kira

Author's Note-

Wasa: Sorry it took so long to update this time! Well, since I don't feel like working everything into the plot, I'll explain the powers and disabilities ghosts will have. They can turn invisible, but they can't be invisible in front of a camera. They can turn intangible, but they can't turn other things intangible unless they were touching whatever object before they turned intangible. Also, they can't just turn one body part intangible. It's a full-body effect. If they hurt a human, they suffer the same amount of pain as the human, and if they kill a human, they disappear. Forever.

Kate: I've got the disclaimer this time. All Wasa owns is a bowl of chips.

Chapter 3: Kira

One Year Later

I hummed absentmindedly as I lounged on the floor of the sixth hotel room that month, fingers hovering above the arrow keys on my laptop. And by my laptop, I mean the laptop I got from L. Working for a guy with an enormous budget had plenty of perks.

I wasn't sure how long I had been playing tetris. My technique was to ignore how hard the game was and just play. As far as I could tell, it worked.

"Are you going to look at the file or not?" asked L, breaking my concentration.

"Shit," I muttered as my hand slipped, a bunch of on-screen blocks fell on top of one another, and my game ended. "Fine, fine, I'll take a look."

I switched to another window and pulled up the list of suspects. After scanning the photos, bios, and psychological reports, I turned the laptop so L could see the screen, pointed to one woman's photo, and said, "This one for sure."

"That's what I thought," he confirmed with a nod.

"Sometimes I wonder why you keep me around," I said. "All I do is confirm what you're already thinking."

"It's useful to have someone to check my work," he said. "You're also quite skilled at spying, due to your supernatural abilities, and--"

"And I'm dang cute," I interrupted playfully. It was fun to tease him.

L ignored the interjection. "And to be quite honest, you're entertaining," he concluded.

"So, what case next?" I asked.

---L---

L got up from his chair and walked to where Kate was sprawled on the floor. Ignoring her questioning expression, he crouched on the floor next to her and started typing on her computer, pulling up a web page.

"The Legend of the Savior Kira," Kate read out loud. "Criminals worldwide dying one after another because Kira..." She trailed off, not bothering to read the rest of the text. "You want to apprehend this 'Kira,' right?"

"Correct," said L.

Suddenly, Kate sniffed the air, then his hair. "Take a shower," she said. "Your hair smells like... Okay, I'm not sure what it smells like. Something nasty."

---Kate---

I enjoyed the 'what the hell?' expression on his face as he looked at me.

Then I realized that I was on the floor next to a guy whose face was very close to mine, and I thought something along the lines of, _Oh shitbiscuits._

"If you're going to kiss me," I improvised teasingly, "you're going to have to take a shower first."

He quickly edged a maybe a foot and a half away from me, then said, "I wasn't going to--"

"If you were any other guy," I interrupted him for the second time, "you would have kissed me and gotten it over with. That or say 'You were the one who sniffed my damn hair,' or something like that. Not just awkwardly jump away and deny it."

"...I am not overly comfortable with this conversation," L said in the most L-ish way possible.

"Neither am I," I admitted with a grin. "So let's get back to Kira and forget that we're two people of opposite genders and similar age alone in a hotel room."

"That didn't help at all, you know."

"I am aware of that." I typed the word 'Kira' in a search engine, conjuring a list of hundreds of websites. _Well, these are all completely useless,_ I thought.

I switched to a database L had hired someone to hack. _Heart attacks, heart attacks...,_ I thought, remembering that the words 'cardiac arrest' had appeared in the descriptions of several Kira sites.

"There," said L, pointing to a particular bit of text. "Otoharada Kurou, heart attack." Apparently we had been thinking the same thing. Or...

"You already started on the case," I said. "Before you even told me you were starting to look at new cases, I'd guess."

"Correct," he said, eyes glued to the computer screen. "This was Kira's first victim."

I nodded. "So Kira is in Japan."

"There's another reason I keep you around," he remarked, bringing back our previous conversation. "You speak fluent Japanese." And Spanish. And Italian. And Mandarin Chinese. And the Canadian dialect of French. And a bit each of German and Russian.

"You go take a shower," I said, "and I'll pack whatever stuff needs to be packed. After all, you like to do your investigation on location."

"Correct again," he said. "Instruct Watari to be at the ICPO conference." He stood up and walked in the direction of the bathroom. Apparently even he could smell his hair.

"Be sure to shampoo," I called after him. "I don't want to be disappointed next time I inappropriately sniff your hair."

Anyone else would have shouted at me. Or flirted with me. He just shut and locked the bathroom door.

I liked working for L.

---End of Chapter 3---

Wasa: Aargh, such a short chapter for so many writer's-block-induced headaches. Well, at least there was romantic tension...

Light: And I still haven't shown up!

Wasa: You know what? You're not going to be in the author's notes anymore. Review, and L may or may not be kissed on the cheek in the next chapter!

L: What?


	4. Showdown, Kind Of

Author's Note-

Wasa: Well, school's back in and I have a life again. Updates will be less frequent from now on.

L: Wasabi494 does not own Death Note. If she did, I imagine she would be a great deal richer.

Wasabi494: I wrote this chapter while listening to songs by The Clash.

Chapter 4: Showdown, Kind Of

I pursed my lips in thought as I looked over the sheet of paper in front of me. It looked satisfactory, covering the material I needed to include while retaining the right tone.

"I think this should do," I said, handing the paper to L from where I was sitting on the armrest of his chair. "I suggest talking in a very bored tone of voice when you address Kira directly."

The paper was, of course, a script I had prepared for L's 'appearance' on television in Japan. I wasn't sure why he had let me write something for him to say. Perhaps he had picked up on the fact that I was even more bored than he was, or maybe he had simply acknowledged my skill at irritating the hell out of people.

He gingerly held up the sheet of paper and read over it quickly. When he was silent, I started talking again.

"If you're right about this," I said, "you won't have to worry about being killed. Still, I can't help but be nervous about the 'try and kill me' part."

---L---

Kate was quite skilled at this. She had written the script in such a way that it would be obvious that Kira was unable to kill L, thus undermining his supposed godliness.

"There's no need to worry," said L, setting the paper down on the coffee table in front of him. "However, as there is always the small possibility that I am wrong, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Sure, anything," she said, reaching for a bowl of sugar cubes on the table.

He swatted her hand away from the bowl and picked up a sugar cube for himself. "In the event that I die," he said, "you are to continue speaking from the script in my place as if nothing had occurred. Afterwards, you should contact Wammy's House and inform my successors of my death."

Kate looked at him nervously, biting her lip.

_As I expected, _thought L, _she is worried that she will not be able to retain emotional composure in the case of my death._

"That won't be necessary," said Kate, smiling confidently all of a sudden, "but I promise to do so just as well."

---Kate---

I wondered how obvious it was that I was forcing my smile. _I really shouldn't be worried, _I thought, _but I guess I just don't like dealing with the possibility that L could die. After all, he's the closest thing I have to a best friend._

---Several Hours Later---

"So he's going to die," I stated simply, looking at the man on the TV claiming to be L. "How unfortunate. Well, at least he'll be useful this way. Not much you can do with someone once they've been executed, after all."

L shushed me, concentrating on the weird techy thing he was using to hijack the airwaves.

"Shush me all you want," I said. "I drank three cans of soda and I'm in full-on cheerleader mode." I demonstrated this by making wild, cheerleader-y gestures.

"Just stay away from the microphone," L said flatly.

"Yes," I responded cheerfully, "it would suck if your epic speech was interrupted by me shouting 'L, where'd you hide the rest of the soda?', now wouldn't it?"

L didn't respond. Score one for me.

The Lind L. Taylor guy on TV said something about Kira being evil, then lasted less than a minute before keeling over, dead.

"I was right," I said. "Kira hates to be called evil. Perhaps because he subconsciously believes he's evil? Food for thought. Oh right, that's your cue. Shutting up now!"

As my boss started talking, I noticed that he was somehow able to pronounce quotation marks. He continued, explaining how he had tricked Kira, and I laughed, facing away from the microphone.

Then came the words I had been suppressing dread about: "So why don't you kill me?"

My hyperness, half of which I had been faking, disappeared. I waited nervously as L continued on in a similar fashion for a while, daring Kira to kill him. _He's ad-libbing, _I realized. _That ass. I worked hard on that script._

I relaxed as L confidently stated, "Seems like you can't kill me after all." Then I went back into cheerleader mode, doing a little victory dance and walking over to sit by L, patting his head as if to say 'congrats on not dying.'

Hey, he was smiling a little. Cute.

---L---

_I was right, _L thought with a small smirk.

He continued with the speech Kate had prepared, aware of her sitting beside him with a hand covering her mouth to contain cheers and victorious laughter. She seemed particularly amused by the sentence 'I'll figure it out when I catch you.' However, he felt her gently hit the side of his head when he claimed to be justice.

_Rather hypocritical, _he thought, _seeing as that's one part of her script I didn't ad-lib._

---Kate---

Once L said goodbye to Kira and turned off the microphone, I immediately pumped a fist in the air and shouted some incoherent victory cry.

"That went better than I thought," L commented, crossing the room to sit in his favored armchair. "I didn't expect to get it right on the first try." He picked up a fork in his signature way and began to eat a piece of cake.

"Sometimes you just get lucky," I said, following him to assume my usual position on the armrest of the chair. "Now, be happy. Kira's probably really pissed right about now."

"True," said L, "but I have most likely motivated him as well."

"That's correct," I conceded. Psychology was my strong suit, after all. "Still, you got him good. And if you don't smile or something, I'm taking away that cake." I moved so I was right in his face, then grinned, remembering that a good mood could be highly contagious.

---L---

L couldn't help but smile at her insistence that he act pleased with the outcome.

"There you go," Kate said. "You're alive, and Kira has got to be royally pissed off, so why shouldn't you smile?"

Before he knew what she was doing, she had kissed his cheek and run off, leaving him with an expression of shock.

Then he realized she had taken his cake.

---End of Chapter 4---

L: ...

Wasa: Yeah, he's still in shock.

L: She took my cake.

Wasa: Well, you know the drill. Click the review button to receive a fabulous (virtual) prize!


	5. Confusion

Author's Note- Oh, and I get all the canon dialogue from scanlations on the internet. If something is phrased differently, I have a scapegoat.

Wasa: I'm so sorry this took so long! I've been really busy lately... Well, time for that fabulous prize I promised you. Anyone and everyone who reviewed receives, drumroll please, Mello's incredibly kickass cell phone. *tries to grab Mello's phone*

Mello: Wha-? Hey! *initiates wrestling match for the phone*

Matt: *walks in, sees us in what looks like a very compromising position* HEY!

Wasa: Well, enjoy the chapter while I try to straighten this out.

Chapter 5: Confusion

I sat on the floor and watched L stare out the window, deep in thought. A long time ago, I had decided that L's main weakness was a tendency to overanalyze everything. Clearly he was doing just that at the moment.

"You realize," I said, "that I can't hear you if you don't talk out loud instead of in your head."

"I would appreciate some time alone to think," he replied. Ouch. What the hell did I do to irritate him? Well, come to think of it, a lot of things. Being hyper and mood-swingy during his TV appearance, kissing his cheek, taking his cake...

I sighed. "Look," I said, trying to sound regretful and submissive, "I'm sorry for all the irritating stuff I've been doing lately. I just get overemotional sometimes, I guess. And I don't like that you put yourself in danger, or that you're not telling me everything." Well, there went the regretful and submissive tone. Out the window.

"...I apologize," he said unexpectedly. "I treat you like a subordinate instead of an associate."

"Technically, I'm neither," I pointed out. "Since you don't exactly pay me."

"True," he said, sounding slightly amused. "Perhaps you're more of a---"

"L," Watari interrupted over the computer. Not that he knew he was interrupting a conversation. But still.

---L---

L turned away from Kate to face the computer screen, crouching down on the floor. "What is it, Watari?" he asked.

"The investigators' report is about to begin."

"Good. Patch me through." Without turning around, L could tell that Kate had walked over to sit behind him and slightly to his left. He could feel her arm brush against his, but he couldn't feel any body heat from her. Even after over a year, that unsettled him slightly.

Not that he would offend her by saying that.

---Kate---

As a bunch of policemen yammered on, I mouthed the words 'blah, blah, blah,' as obviously as I could. However, when some guy with admittedly cool hair started talking about the times of death, I paused and frowned, becoming serious.

"Reminds me of when I would pull an all-nighter studying in college," I whispered to L. "Kira must be getting some nasty premature wrinkles." He nodded distractedly.

I looked back at the video feed as some other guy with a face like a fish said, "We've received calls from 21 people, all of them saying 'I am Kira.'"

I couldn't help muttering "Oog" and hitting myself in the forehead.

Then a little while later, some guy named Matsuda stood up. "I don't mean to give Kira any praise," he said, "But in the past few days criminal activity around the world and especially in Japan has decreased dramatically."

I paused again, biting my lip. I couldn't deny that I liked what Kira was trying to do. Ridding the world of evil.

But he was willing to kill innocent people to do that. The death of the fake L proved it. That was something I couldn't accept.

I snapped out of my daydream as L concluded his little chat session, saying, "I need to know whether or not any images of the perpetrators were shown. Thank you for your cooperation."

The screen went blank as Watari closed his laptop.

"You're still on that?" I asked, leaning back on the floor. "It's already clear that Kira needs a name and a face to kill from that stunt you pulled on TV."

"True," L conceded, "but I have to be sure."

"Your obsession with having absolute certainty on everything is going to be the death of you one day," I said. I wasn't joking in the least. Sometimes fast, decisive action was the only way to get things done. If he lingered too long one one detail, it could prove fatal.

"I apologize," he said for the second time that day.

"Okay," I said, "this apology shit is _freaking me out._ It's weirder than going a day without eating cake." And as far as I knew, that had never happened.

"I don't want you to worry too much about me," he said cryptically.

"You frickin' weirdo," I commented casually.

---Three Days Later---

"23 more deaths just yesterday?!" Mr. Yagami exclaimed unnecessarily. I was sitting next to L and watching the video feed, just like every day.

"Y... Yes, sir," said some guy nervously.

"When will it end...?" another policeman said quietly.

"The same thing happened on the day before," Yagami continued. "Every hour on the hour, one after another."

Random people started talking chaotically. "For this to happen two weekdays in a row..." "I think our student theory has a hole in it." "Wait, he could have just skipped school those days and..."

"That's not it!" L interrupted loudly. I jumped backwards and muttered something along the lines of 'holy shitbiscuits.'

---L---

"That's not what Kira is trying to do!" L continued. "He's trying to tell us he can kill whenever he wants."

_And he wants us to know that he has some means to attain our information! _he thought angrily. _He's challenging me directly._

"Either Kira is on the police force," Kate whispered in his ear, "Or he has some scary hacking skills."

---Later---

---Kate---

"Well, this is just wonderful," I muttered angrily. "Kira knows everything we know, he can use the information to kill innocent police officers, and we can't do a damn thing about it!" I paced back and forth on the floor, occasionally kicking an innocent piece of furniture. If ghosts were capable of hurting themselves, my right foot would probably have been incredibly bruised. Being dead had some perks.

"Calm down," said L, putting a hand on my shoulder. I sighed grumpily, but allowed myself to relax into the familiar contact.

"Aren't you supposed to be sitting in your chair, doing your amazing deduction thing?" I asked, half joking.

"I couldn't concentrate."

"Because of the yelling and kicking of furniture?" I laughed nervously.

"No, I just couldn't concentrate." He scratched one foot with the other in that way of his.

"You could try meditating," I suggested. "That usually helps me when I have trouble thinking."

"All right," he said with a shrug.

"Great, it's been ages since I last taught someone how to meditate on something. Sit on the floor with your legs crossed and your hands in your lap," I instructed.

He did as I said, and I hid a small grin as I thought about how the usual chain of command had been reversed.

"Now try and relax," I continued. "Lay out all the facts in your mind, let the ideas come to you, and I'm being overly mystical, aren't I? Don't answer that."

---Several Minutes Later---

L had gone from quietly thinking to talking to himself.

"But why is he letting me know so much?" I heard him mutter. "What's he up to?"

"He could be trying to distract you," I suggested, unable to hold in a comment. "Or maybe it's a trap." He walked over to his computer after I said that, but I wasn't sure if I had anything to do with it.

---L---

"Watari, it's me," L said into the microphone. "I want you to leave the room."

"Alright," Watari replied after a while. "What's going on, L?"

"Get someplace where the investigation team can't see you and get me the director of the FBI."

---End of Chapter 5---

Wasa: Well, you reviewers can have your replicas of Mello's kickass cell phone now. I locked him and Matt in the closet, and from what I can tell from the surveillance footage that's totally going on the internet, a crisis has been averted.

Kate: Wasa needs your help, readers. Originally, I was going to stay secret from the investigation team and everyone else, but Wasa thought it might be cool if everyone knew I existed. So, click that review button and tell her if I should stay hidden behind the scenes, or reveal myself to the task force.

Wasa: If you give your opinion, you get a free... um...

Kate: Virtual hug?

Wasa: Virtual hug.


	6. PSA

Author's Note:

[The following is a very long, heated rant. I was both upset and sleep-deprived when I wrote it, and it contains a lot of blatant negativity, which I really do not like to look back on and think "wow, what a douche I was." See, I'm doing it again. The general gist of it, however, is that self-inserts and Mary-Sues are bad, and just contribute to the allotted 90% of bad fanfiction. There are already enough Death Note fics about an unrealistically talented girl falling for L, Light, or both. Let's not make more. Scroll down for a slightly homoerotic mini-fic thingy! **TLDR: Don't read the angry rant, it is long and angry and full of latent self-loathing from re-reading this old fic of mine.**]

Son of a bitch, what is wrong with us all? Are we really so immature that we must insert thinly-veiled versions of our idealistic visions of ourselves into our favorite fandoms to hijack the plot, break the rules, and romance the main characters... just so that we can feel some sense of self-worth? It makes me sick. This "Kate" bitch, created so long ago by a fragile teenage mind, is little more than an empty shell through whom I chose to live, to create my own world, to fix every problem, to be an utter fucking Mary-Sue.

Don't try and deny it. Just how predictable is this plot? I admit, it differs somewhat in that I had planned to keep L's death as a plot point, but I also planned to bring him back at the end, and that is even worse. This story was just a vehicle for me to live out an elaborate fantasy in which I would get to have (implied) sex with an asexual man, bring him back to life in a world where that is impossible, and, as I stated before, be an utter fucking Mary-Sue.

I feel fairly disgusted with my – what, thirteen-year-old? - self for coming up with this. Two or three years down the line, I've learned about character development, plot twists, ensemble casts, and so much more about being a good writer. And this piece of shit defiles pretty much every rule I've ever learned.

Why are you all even reading this? Why do you care? This is a stupid delusion made by a pitiful girl who, at the time of its creation, had the self-esteem of a depressed sea sponge. Why are you at all impressed by such a blatant self-insert story with no plot beyond "oh look an extra character who's a competent girl who falls for L"? I'm not insulting your taste, but... Actually, I am insulting your taste. This story is idiotic, and I am glad to have moved on to reading and writing quality literature.

Since the rules of this website clearly state that devoting an entire chapter to an author's note is not at all cool, I will proceed to write a short one-off piece. And it will be at least a little good, unlike the rest of this stupid fucking Mary-Sue shit. Have fun reading it.

* * *

There was silence, interrupted only occasionally by a short burst of static. Neither of the young men, situated on either ends of the connection between two telephones, felt like talking to each other very much. This enmity was, obviously, because these two young men were Mello and Near, the two heirs to the greatest detective the world had ever known.

It was nighttime for both of them, as they were separated by only a few short timezones. East coast, west coast, it made little difference in the grand scheme of things. Each of them was alone, their respective subordinates having retired for the night.

A sharp _crack_ sounded through the silence, harsh and sudden, and Near, stretched out on the cold floor with a hand twisted in his white curls, blinked slowly.

"So it is you," he said, his voice as flat and toneless as some cruel computer from a science-fiction thriller. HAL 9000, perhaps? "I was beginning to worry that I had been fed a piece of false information."

It was highly probable that he was lying through his teeth.

From the other side of the line, there was another _crack_. This one was quieter, and followed by the sound of aluminum foil being torn. "Why are you calling me?" Mello asked in return, his voice filled with years' worth of venom and spite. His eyes were narrowed at the phone in his hand, as if he could glare his rival to death across the width of a continent.

It was highly probable that he was trying to do just that, albeit not consciously.

"You know as well as I do," came the emotionless retort. There was silence after that, the same silence with which the conversation – if it could be called by that name – had started. Near shifted on the floor, and the faint sound of rustling cloth could be heard. "You can't do this alone. Can't catch him alone. Can't prove yourself alone. I probably-"

He was cut off by a third _snap_, accompanied by a low, quiet, and decidedly threatening growl. "Yes I can," was Mello's immediate denial. "_Yes I fucking can._ I don't need your help, or anyone's help." His eyes were wide and wild, his teeth clenched. Every inch of him screamed _hatred_.

"As I was saying," Near said, continuing on like a robot firmly in the center of the Uncanny Valley, "I probably can't either." He glanced towards the phone in his hand, mirroring Mello's previous actions, as if the two of them could stare each other down in the form of sound waves.

More silence. This bout, though, was interlaced with heavy breathing from the blond teenager's side of the connection.

"Obviously," Mello replied. He was trying to sound smooth, in control – it was so readily apparent – but he was failing as much as he tried, his voice shaking ever so slightly. Even his counterpart, though, even the white to his black, knew not with what it was shaking.

"I thought you should know." The younger of the two removed the phone from its place close to his head. After examining it with wide, childish eyes for a moment, he depressed a single button, and the connection was broken. A tone sounded out on the opposite end, a single long _beeeeeeeep_.

"Wait...!" The young man clad in black lurched forward in his seat, an action filled with futility. He held his phone in front of his face for a moment, staring blankly at the backlit screen with his face twitching ever so slightly. "_Bastard._" The phone was flipped shut and tossed to the side.

In one time zone, a young man in white pajamas rolled over on the floor, reaching out for a plastic _Apatosaurus_. In another, a young man in black leather leaned back and stared at the ceiling, a half-growl and half-sigh escaping his mouth.

And there was silence.


End file.
